


Verisimilitude

by RurouniHime



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Betrayal, Dark, First War with Voldemort, M/M, Non Consensual, Pre-Canon, Torture, Veritaserum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-23
Updated: 2011-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-21 16:31:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RurouniHime/pseuds/RurouniHime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape has walked the line between two worlds for several years. Unfortunately, some lines are too thin to keep one’s balance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Verisimilitude

**Author's Note:**

> Post-Marauder era, pre-canon.

It might have been the way the potion bubbled suddenly, frothing green over the lip of the cauldron. Or maybe it was the slight shiver of breeze in the underground room. Severus couldn’t be sure afterward and he wasn't certain he even thought about it then. Just the sudden inexplicable realisation that he was no longer alone in the room; that he was being watched.

He knew who it was immediately. Hard to mistake the seething slice of those grey eyes. But he restrained his body from shivering. It would not do to be taken by surprise by _this_ one these days.

The second shudder, the one he allowed his body to ripple through, was one of a need fulfilled. Or perhaps an expectation not yet fully appreciated.

Lucius Malfoy made the temperature in a room drop. If Severus had been less... wrapped up in other, more pressing matters, he would have begun to test this theory, to find a method of proving it to everyone else. Something in the Malfoy blood perhaps. Or ice, leaking from those eyes. Severus relished this enticing, mysterious ability, if only for the cold fingers that had a way of drifting over the nape of his neck under that gaze. His mind immediately began fitting face to sensation; dark, curving brows and cascading platinum hair, sharp curvature of jaw and pinkish, almost-sneering lips.

Some nights he felt he could close his eyes, never look at the man, and still see his face as if it were his own gazing back at him from a mirror.

But this… simply would not do. Not tonight. The cauldron bubbled again as if reminding him of the precariousness of his situation. Had he known Lucius was planning to come to him this night, he would have waited on this step of the project.

As it was, he could not afford to wait. None of them could. Albus Dumbledore did not demand, did not even speak it, but Severus heard his thoughts on the matter loud and clear. It had to be done and done quickly, before Severus lost his tenuous place amongst the ranks of the Dark Lord.

It was his fourth batch of Veritaserum, though Severus would have sneered in the face of any upstart student who tried to pass the stuff off as the real thing. A mild, diluted dose. Perhaps the entire cauldron could entice truth from a person, were it administered quickly and while still hot. The longer it bubbled, the stronger it got, and Severus was waiting for that next pulse of strength, that extra tingle when he dipped his fingertips into it, telling him when he should take a vial-full.

He would make stronger versions over the next week. He'd gone through several batches already, the first two so weak he nearly doubled the dose out of spite for the tedious task. But if nothing, Severus could be patient. He was a Potions master after all, was he not? He was other things as well.

The Order could not use a spy who would flounder under a mouthful of potent Veritaserum. Severus was halfway to that gloriously tantalising moment when that mouthful would do no more than make his eyes swim.

But he was not there yet.

He gave the cauldron a gentle stir with a long-handled iron rod and stepped away from it, cleaning the rod with a soft cloth. A whisper and a tap of his wand, and the blue fire beneath the basin flickered lower, barely licking into view.

He pocketed his wand and directed his voice to the shadow-shrouded doorway.

“I’m surprised they let you in at this hour. Isn’t it a bit late at night to be away from a new bride?”

A smooth chuckle sounded from the darkness of the entranceway. “Always with the potions, aren’t you, Severus. It’s no wonder you had no friends in school.”

“One does not need friends when one has a good cauldron and a book of questionable… mixtures.” Severus turned at last and caught a glimpse of white. A glint, really, indicating movement. Was he shifting his feet? The idea seemed ridiculous to him the second he summoned it. Lucius Malfoy, nervous? The man did not even know the definition of the term.

Severus, however, was beginning to understand the word quite well.

“One of these days, Severus, I am going to wrench from you how you always know when I'm here.” Lucius Malfoy stepped from the shadows, his face amused but still managing to look nonplussed. Severus had often pondered how long it had taken the tall, lithe man to coax his muscles into obeying his every command, down to the last, tiniest facial tic. It was most obvious in those moments why the Dark Lord had chosen his second-in-command.

“What are you doing here, Lucius?” Severus drawled. It wasn't difficult to make himself sound tired. He was exhausted. It should have been enough to teach those simpering children every day, but it was not. No, he spent his nights away from bed as well, running back and forth between those he followed and those he merely pretended to follow, or… doing this. Mixing delightfully odiferous ingredients in a pot to further ease the afore-mentioned running back and forth. Most nights Severus was furious at the way he had to keep denying his body the rest it craved.

Tonight he vented his hatred on the idea of Voldemort. But that target was subject to change, depending on his mood.

Lucius smiled serenely at him, sending a shiver down Severus’ spine. He’d seen the man’s new bride often enough to know that any child of theirs would be a sight to behold: blond hair, tall frame if he or she managed to grow up in this god-forsaken mess of a war, cold eyes. But if Lucius’ offspring inherited that smile… Severus clenched his teeth and fought the sliver of ice in his gut. The world did not need two Lucius Malfoys.

“Can a man not visit an old friend?” Lucius asked, spreading his still-cloaked arms in a half shrug. Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Is that what I am?”

Lucius’s grin widened. “I don't think there's a single word that can describe what _you_ are, Severus.”

Severus pulled his wand slowly and aimed it at the cauldron, his eyes still on his visitor. One flick and the flames dimmed even further, until only a small undulation in the potion’s surface indicated the heat below it. “I'm afraid I'm rather preoccupied tonight, Lucius,” he said flatly.

The man was taking slow, measured steps into the room, one long-fingered hand toying with his longer black rosewood wand. Severus found himself caught by the movement. Pale, pale skin against the backdrop of black cloth. It was hypnotic, the motion of that hand. Severus could already feel himself losing the fight to it; his body was giving up, and gladly.

Lucius looked at him narrowly. “Since when have you ever managed to be preoccupied the nights of my visits?”

Severus did not answer. Anything he could have said was already known to both of them. And it was true after all. He’d known by the jumping flutter in his stomach the moment he realized Lucius was in the room.

He’d been without this for too long.

He sighed. “Well, then. Welcome to my humble classroom in all its dingy-ness. Though I don’t believe you need any lessons in my area of expertise.”

A raised eyebrow. “One can always learn more, Severus. It's something that you would be wise to remember, especially when dealing with other individuals.”

Severus let his face slip into a sardonic smile, but his chest was tight. He kept his wand out, twirling it idly in one hand. His eyes were on Lucius’ wand. Lucius looked at him, face blank.

“Is that Veritaserum?” He pointed with his cane at the steaming broth over the blue spirit-fire.

Severus looked as well, instinct making him swing his head around slowly, unconcernedly. He eyed the cauldron. “Just a special potion mixture. To make the experience more enjoyable.”

Lucius narrowed his eyes. It made something twinge in Severus’ chest. If he didn’t believe him… The blond man searched him thoroughly without moving a muscle. “It smells like Veritaserum.”

“It’s not, I assure you.”

“Do you, now?” Taunting. Still cold.

Snape raised an eyebrow, filled a goblet, and took a small sip. “Ask.”

Lucius smiled placidly. “Do you love me?”

Snape felt the pull almost immediately. His mind tried to cloud on him and the words slithered, attempting to float out. He stilled himself inwardly, waiting for the mist to pass.

For an inscrutable instant, he thought, _Why?_

“No.”

Lucius laughed, a dry, bitter sound. “Now I am convinced.” He settled his cane against a table and stepped smoothly around it, fingers tented in front of his chest. “A more enjoyable experience, you say? Then by all means. Use it.”

Severus put the goblet down. His insides were still jumping, writhing against him. It took all of his strength to resist the words that wanted to fly from his lips. “It’s not ready.”

“Well, then.” Lucius spread his hands carelessly, an easy smile on his face. “Next time.”

Severus nearly laughed. It was nerves. He struggled to control himself, and gave the mixture one last stir before settling the heavy stone lid over the top of the cauldron. He took his time with the task of covering the potion, putting out the fire, and rearranging his potions accoutrements; his eyes were still swimming, his gut twisting sleepily. The words, whatever they were – and he was actually vaguely curious – no longer threatened to burst from him, but… one could never be too careful with Veritaserum and Lucius Malfoy in the same room.

Severus didn't know which secrets he would rather protect more forcefully, the Order’s or his own.

He didn't notice how close Lucius was until he felt the heat of the man’s body just to his left. Slightly behind. He started violently. Lucius’ hand came to his shoulder to steady him, a warmth that defied the white of his skin bleeding through Severus’ robes. “My, my, you are tense tonight. Something you wish to tell me?”

Severus’s mind gave a leap, tried to force a shout of _Yes!_ He fought it with some difficulty. Before he was even remotely certain he had his mind to himself again, his body was turning toward the other man, and a tiny truth slid from his lips. A whisper.

“I missed you.”

For a moment, Lucius looked as if he were about to frown. His eyes narrowed and searched Severus’ face. Every nook and cranny, every pocked shadow. There was a patience there that frightened Severus, though he had witnessed it myriad times before. Every moment he spent with the man made him a little more fearful, a little more on edge. He felt as if he were teetering on a brink, holding onto Lucius’ hand for balance, and that the hand could jerk from his grasp at any instant and send him tumbling Salazar knew where.

It was a rush, deeply infused into his bones as no potion could accomplish.

Lucius settled a hand on his shoulder, raised the other one to let a cool-tipped finger trail down Severus’ cheek. His breath heated his skin. “What’s not to miss?”

Severus stared doggedly ahead, though his body was tingling. “Won’t your wife wonder?”

He could almost smell Lucius’ smirk. Spicy. “I really could care less what she wonders about. There _are_ other aspects of life that draw my attention.”

Lucius placed one hand on his chest and pushed him against the wall, hard. Severus felt his head smack the stones. A slither of pain wove through his skull and down his neck. He tried to move but Lucius grabbed his chin none too gently and forced his mouth open, tongue going deep. Severus groaned and sluggishly reciprocated. He waited for the pain to fade, for his body to fill with heat. It always did eventually, and it was not long in coming this time around. Lucius kicked his legs apart and jutted his knee between them, digging his fingers deeply into Severus’ shoulder at the juncture of his throat. Severus twisted his head, breaking the kiss and hissing before he could think, and Lucius’ eyes narrowed frighteningly. He jerked Severus’ jaw harshly and bit down on his lower lip.

“You should know better than to pull away, Severus.” Lucius’ voice was rough, growling. The man gripped the front of his robes and pulled hard. Buttons popped, scattering across the floor. Severus let his head fall back as Lucius’ hand glided over his now-bare chest. The taller man curled his fingers suddenly and raked them down Severus’ chest, and he cried out and grabbed at the hand. Lucius snatched his fingers and yanked his arm up above his head, slamming it against the wall. He pinned both wrists and grabbed Severus between his legs. Severus leaned in to kiss him but Lucius pulled back, snapped one hand across his face and then squeezed him hard with his other hand. Severus’ face burned, heat licking up his skin, numbing just after. He moaned helplessly. Lucius smiled, an eerie twist of his lips.

“You like this?” he whispered. There was something under his words that should have worried Severus, but he chose to ignore it. Chose to hear the words themselves, which he had heard many times before, instead. Lucius leaned in, mouth close to his ear, fingers kneading his crotch. “You like this.” A statement this time. Severus drew a shaky breath.

“You know I do,” he managed. Lucius’ eyes glittered, and a slow smile curled over his lips once more. It did not reach his eyes. Severus felt himself locked by the seductive, sinister nature of his expression. He groaned low in his throat when Lucius’ hand slid down into his trousers and gripped him.

Lucius’ smile widened and Severus finally got his kiss. The other man’s tongue was hot in his mouth, teeth biting. Severus bit back, and enjoyed the bittersweet taste of blood on his lips – he wasn’t sure whose. He pushed his hips against Lucius’ and felt the hand gripping his loosen. Severus brought his hand down to Lucius’ robes and began to thumb open buttons, running his fingers over the smooth chest underneath. Lucius shuddered, clutched him between his legs, and Severus gasped and scraped his fingernails over the skin he was slowly revealing, over nipples that hardened immediately at his touch. Lucius hissed into his mouth and Severus felt that delicious shiver under his fingers. He waited for it every time. Barely discernible… He only knew it from two years of nights curled around Lucius’ body, when his silver eyes betrayed what the shiver hinted at. Lucius was losing control again. He would get rougher, certainly. Compensation. But then… the pain would only accentuate what was in his eyes.

Severus lived for that.

Lucius’ mouth was so hot against his, trailing over his jaw, and it was only belatedly that he felt the man grab his hands and raise them away from his body. The sharp pain of having his arms yanked upward again and shoved into the stone above his head broke a little way through the haze of arousal, but Severus chose to ignore that as well… Until Lucius stiffened and pulled away from him, closing one hand over both of his wrists once more. The man wiped his lips with the back of one hand and raised his eyes to Severus’.

They were cold, completely unaffected. Severus felt as if he were looking into the flat landscapes of frozen lakes, covered over with clouded ice. Lucius’ lips twitched at the corners into a vaguely sinister smirk. “It really is unfortunate that I’m not here for that tonight.”

Severus’ insides twisted uneasily.

Lucius stepped back, dropping Severus’ hands. The lamplight fell over the curves of his shoulders; the gentle flow of hair around his face gleamed golden. With his shirt laid open against his pale chest, allowing for the barest glimpse of his navel in the shadows, and the luxuriant, midnight-colored cloth draped over his tall frame, he looked like a fallen angel shining amidst the cloak of darkness. Severus was so mesmerised by the sight that he missed the softly whispered words of the spell. His body was jerked back against the wall; chains slid from nothingness, looping cold links tightly around his limbs. Severus struggled against his bonds and cried out when the frozen metal burned his wrists.

Lucius smiled.

“What is the meaning of this, Lucius?” Severus struggled to calm his voice; his body was still coming down from the high the man always put him into. He fought to keep his gaze hard, but something wasn't right here, that much was rapidly becoming clear, and he didn't think he could hide this realisation from his captor for very much longer. It seemed that the worst things he could possibly imagine were occurring all at once. But one thought overrode the others, ballooning into massive proportions, _he could not find out about the Order_ , and Severus thought that if he could deny that at least, if this had nothing to do with that detail, then he could manage—

Lucius walked in front of him and trailed a cool finger over his chest. His eyes glittered, cold and barren. “The Dark Lord has come to believe that you are not fully committed to our cause. That your… loyalties… are in question. I must say that I have begun to agree with him.”

Severus swallowed past the gall threatening to choke him and summoned up anger, incredulity – anything – to combat the fear building in his chest. “What in the name of Salazar Slytherin are you accusing me of, Malfoy?”

Lucius raised an eyebrow at the use of his surname. “I should think it quite clear, Severus. But let’s make it as interesting for me as it's going to be for you… Why don’t you explain to me what I am accusing you of?”

Severus watched Lucius’ wand. It was rising slowly in his hand. “Release me from these ridiculous chains, Lucius. I haven’t the faintest clue what you're attempting to spell out with your vague hints.”

The burn erupted on the skin over his left shoulder almost before he had finished speaking. He clamped his mouth shut, hissing between his teeth. Lucius tapped his wand against the palm of his other hand. “You surprise me, Severus. I’d been under the well-earned impression you enjoyed this sort of game.”

Severus said nothing. His heart was beating wildly. He must know. The Dark Lord must know. _But that’s impossible,_ a small voice in the corner of his mind piped up. _They can’t have more than a vague suspicion. You’ve been too careful._

“Again, Severus. Is there anything you wish to tell me?”

He curled his lip and watched as Lucius’ eyes widened slightly. “Only that you should try something new, Lucius. I’ve been on the end of this before.”

Lucius’ face hardened. He stepped forward. “Severus, I know that you are not completely under the sway of the Dark Lord. Regardless of what he knows, I'm very aware of the gulf between the two of you. Between us. You tell me more each time we are… together.”

Severus swallowed, felt his control slip. Because it was true, his entire body knew it. He gave more away every time Lucius touched him, every moment that the man was inside him. He’d thought he had time, that he could let the little bits go and still pull back. It was only a matter of time, but he would know when the line had been reached.

Only, he'd already stepped over that line. The hollow tug he felt at the emptiness in Lucius Malfoy’s eyes was enough to slam that home. He cursed himself for a fool.

“Now Severus.” And Lucius was very close now, so close that Severus could smell the gentle, ocean-sweet scent that clung to his hair. The man let the tip of his wand drift down over the still tender burned spot to the middle of his chest. “One more time. For old time’s sake, my _dear_ friend.”

Fire lanced through his chest, much more intense than before. Severus cried out and arched, biting through his lip. It faded as soon as he uttered his hoarse shout, but a lingering ache swelled in his chest, in his mind. It had nothing to do with the burn, and everything to do with Lucius Malfoy’s blank face, narrowed eyes. Eyes he had found so much hidden within, a face he thought he knew.

He had no idea who this man was now.

Lucius glanced over him once, up and down. He clicked his tongue. “Still enjoying this, are you then? Is this really so dissimilar to our regular activities?”

Lucius turned away and Severus was flooded by momentary but welcome relief. Until… “It seems I am asking the wrong questions. Perhaps you would care to tell me what is really in that cauldron. Or where you spend the nights you are not moaning my name.”

Severus’ heart jerked in his chest. Lucius smiled as if he had heard the odd thud-thump and stepped close again, right in front of him. “Tell me, Severus. Before I choose to make this experience unsavory for you.”

Severus grimaced. His voice held untapped contempt. “When has it ever been otherwise, Lucius?”

Lucius hit him hard across the face, snapping his head back, then immediately grabbed his chin in his still-gloved hand and yanked it around until Severus was staring into his face. His cheek stung with the heat of the blow, and Lucius’ fingers pressed hard into his chin, causing a dull, growing ache.

It wasn’t exactly true; Severus did like his escapades with the other man, the roughness, the pain. But his own words had shot from him like bitter knives and he had no desire to take them back.

Lucius sneered at him coldly and stepped away again. He paced in front of Severus, hands clasped loosely behind his back, wand tapping gently against his leg. Each time he passed in front of where Severus hung against the wall, he looked at him from the corner of his eye, lip curling slightly. “You know, more than anyone, what happens to those found to be disloyal to the Dark Lord. I don’t want you to think of this as an interrogation. More like an… opportunity to learn. To ensure your mistakes are not repeated. I do hate to accuse you of such a terrible crime against our Lord. But questions have come to the fore, and he wishes to proceed swiftly and decisively. There can be no room for error.”

Severus stared at Lucius, looking down at his wand every other step. The thing kept drawing his gaze, like a buzzing gnat. He had the feeling Lucius was doing something with it, though he could feel no spell taking hold of him, no hex snaking its way through his veins. He forced himself to peer at the man rather than the wand. “Do _you_ believe I've betrayed him?”

Lucius stopped mid-step and turned to him, an incredulous look on his face. “Don’t be ridiculous, Severus. What I think is unimportant. Unless…”

Severus swallowed hard and cursed himself. He could tell by the knowing look on Lucius’ features that the man had anticipated this foolish admission on his part. He couldn't tell if it was the remains of the Veritaserum in his system, but… he suddenly realized with a sinking heart that it _did_ matter to him, what Lucius thought of it all.

And this Lucius, this once-familiar person that he was suddenly terribly uncertain of, knew that. Had known it.

He struggled to sneer, to wipe the niggling notion from his mind, but it was there, burrowing in, how much danger he was really in. And following it, the fact that he'd been too naïve to suspect it of Lucius.

“Well.” Severus chewed the inside of his lip. Then he leveled a smirk at the other man. The words snapped from him. “Why don’t you just kill me then? That would be the sure way, would it not? If you cannot afford to make mistakes.”

Lucius studied him in silence.

"Oh…” His smile was suddenly horrifying to behold. “I’m not going to kill you. There are other more enjoyable possibilities to consider, Severus. And believe me, you _will speak_ by the time they are fully realised. You will say everything under the sun.”

He moved closer until his robes were brushing Severus’ aching body.

“Do you want me to make it _hurt_ , Severus?”

His hands trailed over the skin of his hips, drifting close to his backside. Severus choked on the implications of his movements.

“You… wouldn’t.”

Lucius’ eyes bored holes into his skull. He let one finger drift down his face. “Do you really know me so well?”

Severus looked at the man in front of him, his body recoiling already from his touch, but at the same time, his chest was burning. On fire, really. The pain was so great, and building. “Lucius, I swear to you—”

Lucius tapped his lips with his wand. “Choose your words carefully, Severus. I would hate to find out later that you were lying.”

Every bone in his body was telling him not to lie, to just… tell Lucius the truth, let it flow out of him like a cleansing wave, drop all pretences… But that was suicide, plain and simple. He had no idea if Lucius knew. And he had a very good idea – it closed his throat up, hammered his lungs – how far the man would go to obtain those answers.

“You see, Severus” –and Lucius touched his wand to various places on Severus' flesh, burning them, bruising painfully with a simple brush of the tip— “The Dark Lord was all for torturing you with Cruciatus, with putting you under Imperius until he got it out of you. But that is so crass, so heavy-handed. Lacks a certain refinement. Really, it did not take much to convince him that all you needed… was a lover’s touch.”

Severus gagged. He felt himself closing down, knew without a doubt that he would give in to whatever Lucius wanted if he allowed himself to shut down completely. His brain screamed that he could not allow that, that he had a loyalty to the Order. But his body was ready to give up, close down before whatever was about to happen. Lucius ran a hand over his ribs, tracing along his hip. Severus shuddered as the man leaned in, lips brushing against his ear.

“Now, Severus, you wouldn't want me to make this regrettable, would you? It can be painless, certainly. Just tell me. The truth of it. Whose side are you really working for in this little war of ours?”

Severus swallowed again. The man he knew was not here. For a split second it was a complete stranger touching him, a creature he had never wanted to see. His heart clenched at the betrayal, dully, like a forgotten wound reopened. His throat ached, his body was a mass of pain. And it did not compare to the sickening clench in his gut when he thought of how much he had misjudged… everything.

Forcing himself to meet Lucius’ eyes, he managed a low whisper, and wasn't certain what his body rebelled against more: the lie or the force it took to utter it. “Lucius, I swear to you on the graves of my parents, on the Mark I bear on my arm… on everything you are… to me… that I live only to serve Lord Voldemort.”

And something flickered inside him… and died.

The man inches in front of him stared into his eyes. For an instant, there was a flash of something in those irises. Something raw, bared to the bone. Pain. But then Lucius’ face cracked into a sudden, dry smile.

“Then we are finished.” Lucius backed up with practiced grace, flicking his wand to release the chains around Severus’ wrists. He looked no more flustered than if a small spot of wine had dripped onto his cloak. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Severus.”

With a swish of his robes, Lucius Malfoy turned and walked out of the room, hair flowing behind him like a ghost. Severus sank to his knees on the cold stones and stared at the faint scratches in the granite directly in front of him. He did not move for over an hour.

* * *

It was a week before Lucius returned. Severus went through the days in a casing made of stone, but whether it was something of his own devising or that of Lucius’, he did not know. He walked the halls of Hogwarts with solid steps that echoed jarringly in the hollows inside him. When he saw the familiar blond hair, the spark of grey eyes in the dim light of the dungeon one evening, he expected something. A flutter of life in his chest. Some sort of sensation, heat perhaps, in his cheeks. But none came.

Lucius did not say much. Just the formal greetings, the slow, steady approach that Severus had become accustomed to. He knew this Lucius. Knew him very well. But still… there was nothing. When Lucius drew in to kiss him, Severus turned his head aside. The other man pulled back until Severus could see his face.

“Would you have done that to me if you thought I was lying?” Severus said in a low voice.

Lucius’ face froze and a glimmer passed through his eyes. Empty… Painful. It was swiftly covered over with anger, and Lucius dropped his arm and departed without a word. Severus watched him go as if he were standing outside of his own body, his innards vaguely clenched. He couldn't tell if it had been regret there in Lucius' face, or the realisation of having broken something.

He did not ask again. And Lucius returned and took him again, and it was painful and wonderful and fuzzy and outside of time. His body remembered liking it, enjoying the pain, responded to it as it had before, and that moment when the shield over Lucius’ eyes broke away filled him with… something. Then he was coming and he closed his own eyes until he finished.

It went on as it had. Severus watched it flow before him, and the difference under the surface would have cut him had he been able to feel.

Lucius’ touch took on a burning sting Severus both floated toward and recoiled from. His body desired it to the point of agony just before it was given. His heart fluttered then, attempting to resurrect itself, but the emotion was only a ghost of what he'd felt before. It seemed he was watching himself through a filmy blindfold. Some moments, as Lucius moved inside him, touched his face with shaking fingers, he was able to forget, to return to what he remembered.

But those moments were few and far between.

He doubted if Lucius noticed how stiff he was the next time, when he was thrusting into him and all Severus could see was the unending ceiling above. It didn’t really matter. He could count all the cracks, even when Lucius put out the light.

~fin~


End file.
